duetie is at your commaund.
Exeunt all but Hamlet. Ham. Why what a dunghill idiote slaue am I? Why these Players here draw water from eyes: For Hecuba, why what is Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba? [F1] What would he do and if he had my losse? His father murdred, and a Crowne bereft him, He would turne all his teares to droppes of blood, Amaze the standers by with his laments, Strike more then wonder in the iudiciall eares, Confound the ignorant, and make mute the wise, Indeede his passion would be generall. Yet I like to an asse and Iohn a Dreames, Hauing my father murdred by a villaine, Stand still, and let it passe, why sure I am a coward: Who pluckes me by the beard, or twites my nose, Giue's me the lie i'th throate downe to the lungs, Sure I should take it, or else I haue no gall, Or by this I should a fatted all the region kites With this slaues offell, this damned villaine, Treachcrous, bawdy, murderous villaine: Why this is braue, that I the sonne of my deare father, Should like a scalion, like a very drabbe Thus raile in wordes. About my braine, I haue heard that guilty creatures sitting at a play, Hath, by the very cunning of the scene, confest a murder Committed long before. This spirit that I haue seene may be the Diuell, And out of my weakenesse and my melancholy, As he is very potent with such men, Doth seeke to damne me, I will haue sounder proofes, The play's the thing, Wherein I'le catch the conscience of the King.
exit. 